


The Bet

by bleedingballroomfloor



Series: Bedroom Warfare [1]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Anal Sex, Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Kissing, M/M, Mostly just porn though, Multiple Orgasms, No sex bet, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Riding, Sexual Tension, Switching, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dream, but it gets resolved eventually, like it kind of has a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingballroomfloor/pseuds/bleedingballroomfloor
Summary: Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault.Or, the time Henry and Alex bet on who can last the longest without sex.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Bedroom Warfare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184222
Comments: 73
Kudos: 524





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this. I switched the tense from present to past to present again, so if anything seems jumbled or is worded funny, please send me a message and let me know. Aside from that, here's our boys being stupid competitive idiots! Hope you all enjoy!!

Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault.

It starts earlier that week when she texts Alex a link to a Buzzfeed article about him and Henry — _Fourteen Times First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is Caught Swooning Over Boyfriend Prince Henry_ — with a message along with it: _your bottom is showing_.

Alex laughs at the article as he scrolls through it; as much as he hates to admit it, it isn't wrong. Now that they are out to the world, now that they have nothing left to hide, why shouldn't he be able to be affectionate with Henry? He knows he dotes on him in public, but it's different seeing the two of them from an outsider's perspective. The article has pictures of them holding hands at public events, of one with Henry's arm around Alex's waist and his head on his shoulder when they were photographed in Central Park, and Alex can understand that, yeah, maybe he was _swooning_ a bit; but then there are others, such as one photo of them in a cafe together, and Alex is simply looking at Henry — but even the picture captures the loving smile and heart-eyes he's flashing him.

He shows the article to Henry when he comes home from the shelter that night, and he gets a good laugh out of it as well, pressing a kiss to the top of Alex's head and saying, "It's good to know that you're not bored of me yet."

And that should be it, and the article should be free from their minds, but Alex can't seem to stop thinking about it. He steals a few minutes away before dinner, telling Henry that he wants to finish his readings for class, but instead logs onto his computer and finds more posts about the same thing: another article titled _12 Lines From The Waterloo Letters that Make Us Believe in Love Again,_ YouTube videos called _Alex Claremont-Diaz being in love with Prince Henry for seven minutes and fourty-three seconds ~~straight~~ bi,_ tweets of _"acd looking at prince henry — a thread."_ It doesn't bother him that those things are out there, not in the least, but it is surprising that the majority of the posts seem to be centered around him. _Him_ looking at Henry, _him_ being obviously in love with Henry, and it's an overwhelming amount compared to posts focusing on Henry.

The thought stays in the back of his mind for the rest of the night, when they wash the dishes together, when they take David out for a walk, when they eventually tumble into sex that night. Henry's hands are roaming down his bare chest, his mouth hungry, and Alex loves it, but he can't stop thinking about that damn article.

"Y'know, I can't believe there aren't more things out there about you fawning over me," he gasps out when Henry has three fingers inside of him and his mouth around his cock, "considering you're so desperate in bed."

Henry looks up at him at this, moving his mouth off his dick. He has that smile on his face where Alex knows he's holding back a laugh, but before he can say anything else, Henry crooks his fingers into his prostate, causing him to fall back onto the pillows and a slur of praises to leave his lips. "Fuck, Henry, please, _please,_ feels so good —"

"And you're saying I'm desperate for it?" Henry chuckles. He presses a kiss to Alex's jutting hipbone. "Do you hear yourself right now?"

"Please," Alex scoffs. "Do I need to remind you when — _ah_ — when you made us leave early from dinner with my dad the other week because you couldn't keep it in your pants?"

"Do I need to remind you whom it was that teased me the entire time?" Henry retorts. He pulls out his fingers, and Alex whines from the loss of contact. Henry kisses his way up Alex's chest, stopping to suck a lovebite into the dip of his collarbone. The head of his lubed-up cock presses against the cleft of Alex's ass, and he chokes on air. Henry captures his lips in a kiss, licking into his mouth, tangling his fingers in his curls. "Just shut off your brain for a moment and enjoy this, love. I know how much you want it."

"Not as much you do," Alex says in an attempt to get one last shot in, moaning as Henry starts to push into him.

Henry stops at that. Their foreheads are pressed together but his eyes are closed, his breath hot and heavy against Alex's lips. "Do you really want to do this now?" he asks in a low voice. He's teasing, but Alex can still recognize the serious side the question. And while Alex _would_ like to sit down and convince Henry that it's him, in fact, who is much more desperate and clingy than he is, well. His dick is barely inside of him. He can wait for this, at least.

"No, of course not," he mumbles, nudging Henry's mouth with his. He cups Henry's ass, pushing down on his lower back until Henry takes the hint and slides deeper into Alex. He throws his head back, moaning. "Yeah, _yeah,_ just like that. Fuck me so good, Hen, Jesus."

Later, when they're a tangled mess of dirtied sheets and lingering kisses, Alex springs back into action. "You know I'm right, though."

Henry snorts, brushing strands of Alex's hair out of his eyes. "About what? That I'm the one — and I quote — who's _'so desperate in bed?'_ Need I remind you that I resisted the urge to kiss you for nearly four years?"

"Okay, sure, but you were the one who cracked first."

"And you were the one who accosted me shortly after, so forgive me if I don't think you're in the position to call me desperate."

"Whatever," Alex says with a grin. "I know you can't resist my perfect combination of boyish charms and hot bod. You couldn't last a week without this." He wiggles his ass for good measure.

Henry props himself up on his elbow, smiling down at him. His eyes are bright. "Is that a challenge?"

Alex doesn't mean for it to be. Really, he doesn't. But Henry is staring at him with a fire in his eyes that he has never seen before, and it's no secret that the two of them can get fairly competitive, and Alex is still his post-orgasm daze that makes his brain not work at its full potential. If circumstances were different, if Alex was able to think rationally, he would shrug it off with a "no, of course not," then pull Henry back down to him with a promise of round two. But Henry is stubborn, and Alex is petty, and that isn't always the best combination to have in conversations like these.

And a part of it is still because of that _fucking_ article.

So, very stupidly, Alex says back, "Would I say so if it wasn't?"

They make it through the first week just fine. They're used to a week without touch; Henry would have to leave for London or Alex would have to attend meetings back in D.C. and they wouldn't be able to accompany each other. Instead, the two of them fall into the routine of cooking side by side, working on separate assignments in their office, taking twenty-minute power naps together on the couch. Non-sexual touch, they both decide, is just fine. The same goes for kissing. They allow kisses anywhere except on the lips, and Alex finds solace in the soft press of Henry's lips against his cheek before he leaves for classes, the quick kisses he leaves on Henry's knuckles when he's working on paperwork for the shelter. It's a lot more intimate than he expects it to be.

But every once in a while, Henry does these — these _things,_ and Alex isn't sure if it's purposeful or not. Like earlier in the week, when Alex overslept and Henry was already there in the kitchen, pushing a thermos of coffee and his packed bag into his arms before he dashed out the door. He ignored the curling feeling in his gut when Henry kissed him goodbye that morning.

Or two days ago, when Alex was working on a paper in the office and Henry was softly playing piano downstairs in the living room. It was a tune Alex didn't quite recognize, so he texted a request to Henry. He meant it as a joke, but sure enough, not even thirty seconds later, Henry elegantly switched from the piece he was playing to Alex's request. He smiled to himself, letting Henry play for another few minutes before sending him a different song to play. Henry switched to that one as casually as one does while playing piano, and it was at that point where Alex started feeling warm. Their game went on for a long while, until the sound of the keys effectively stopped after Alex texted him _hotel room service by pitbull_ ("You must know that I haven't got a clue what that is," Henry called up the stairs, and Alex laughed loudly).

By the time the second week rolls around, Alex is starting to get antsy. Henry is as well, he can sense it, but his boyfriend is a lot better at suppressing these feelings than he is. Discretion has never been his subtlety, and he knows that. But teasing definitely is.

It starts off with small moments, like pressing his hand just low enough on Henry's back for it to be less than friendly when moving behind him in the kitchen. Or rubbing the back of his neck while Henry reads next to him, his nails "accidentally" scratching the spot on the column of his throat he loves getting kissed. Or licking sauce off his thumb during dinner, staring at Henry the whole time he does so.

Henry catches on soon enough, after Alex insists on fixing his hair and instead scratches lightly down Henry's scalp. He follows him to the door that morning, his eyes narrowed. "I know what you're doing."

"Doing what now?" Alex asks, hiding his smile as he bends down to tie his shoes.

"Teasing me. You're trying to get me to cave."

Alex straightens up, giving an innocent shrug. "I don't know what you're talking about, baby."

Henry inhales sharply, and Alex focuses on pulling on his brown overcoat. He knows that nickname does wonders for Henry; there was a reason why he waited until now to use it. The final blow. He slings his school bag over his shoulder, reaching for his keys. "I need to head out. What time are you done at the shelter?"

"Hopefully before six," Henry responds. Alex is glad to hear the slight shake to his voice, so subtle that anyone but him would miss it. "I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight it is," Alex says back, stepping into Henry's space. He presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, then another one, inches away from the corner of his mouth. He hears Henry's breath hitch and laughs lightly. "Love you, sweetheart. Call me when you're ready to give in."

In hindsight, he should have known that Henry would retaliate. And when Henry retaliates, oh boy. He goes through with it all.

He brings home a bottle of Alex's favorite wine that night, knowing that he won't be able to resist. Alex allows himself two glasses, telling himself that he'll still be able to shut Henry down if push comes to shove. He fully expects Henry to make a move on him later in the evening, preparing himself for anything he could think of Henry doing, but what he doesn't expect is for Henry to do absolutely nothing. Or so he thinks, when Henry slips away to take a late shower as Alex reads through his growing pile of emails. He hears the shower water turn on and looks up, the sound of the water slightly louder than normal. The bathroom door is open just a crack, and Alex snorts to himself, thinking that the best Henry can come up with is an open bathroom door — and then his eyes fall upon the mirror next to their dresser. How it's turned just barely to the right, pointing to the bathroom door, the reflection catching the bathroom mirror from this angle. Alex's mouth goes dry. Henry planned all of this, the motherfucker.

He refuses to look up when the water eventually turns off, but he's been on the verge of horniness ever since he started teasing Henry, and in the end, his dick makes a more convincing argument than his brain ever can. He glances up at the mirror to see Henry toweling off his hair, something that should _not_ be as sexy as Alex thinks it is. Then Henry turns around, his long legs and bare ass being the only things Alex can see from the angle he's at, and he has to drop his face in his hands to stop himself from doing anything that would make him lose their bet.

"That's cheating," he weakly calls through his fingers.

"What is?" Henry says back in that same infuriating tone that Alex used in the morning.

"You know what," Alex grumbles back.

He hears the bathroom door open fully, and he looks back up. Henry is wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, and he has the audacity — the fucking _audacity_ — to grin innocently at his stupidly horny boyfriend. "I hardly think it's cheating to accidentally leave the door to the loo open. If you really want to have this conversation, let's talk about how you practically kissed me this morning."

"I did no such thing," Alex retorts. "It's not my fault if you looked too far into things; I just wanted to show my boyfriend some affection. And I didn't even kiss you on the lips, so I didn't break any rules."

"If that's how you want to play," Henry says casually, dropping the towel right then and there, allowing Alex to get another look of his ass before pulling on his pajama bottoms. Alex groans and hides his face in a pillow.

That night is the start of the breaking point for him. Henry leaves butterfly-light kisses on his eyelids, his hand curling tightly around Alex's hip, a single finger slipping under his sleep shirt and sliding ever-so-slowly up and down his skin. In response, Alex turns them both around so his chest is flush against Henry's back, slotting his hips so his dick presses against Henry's ass. He has one arm thrown over Henry's chest, his fingers dancing in slow circles dangerously close to his nipples, kissing his neck with dry lips. More than once, he feels Henry shudder against him.

That goes on for the next two days. Two days of teasing touches, lingering gazes, kisses teetering on the edge of being not-so-friendly. All of it builds up inside Alex, leaving him a jittering mess each night where he's allowed to touch Henry but not properly, not in the way he wants to, because he isn't about to lose this stupid bet two and a half weeks in.

All because of that article. He makes a mental note to smack Nora the next time he sees her.

The sexual tension finally catches up to them, however, and Alex soon finds himself on his hands and knees on the bed, ass in the air, Henry fucking into him relentlessly. He moans out, dropping onto his elbows, relishing in the way Henry slams into his prostate on every thrust. His thighs shake when Henry smacks his ass hard and kisses a wet trail up to his ear, whispering a string of words somewhere in between dirty talk and apologies, like _"You were right, I couldn't handle it anymore, missed your big fucking cock."_ And it's so good, and Alex _has_ to touch himself, but Henry swats his hand away before he can wrap it around his aching dick, promising him that the only way he'll be coming tonight is from his cock in his ass, and it's all too much, and —

His eyes fly open as he's shaken awake, his hips unconsciously thrusting hard into the mattress. He gasps, his brain still hazy from sleep, but he can just make out the teasing smile on Henry's face. He groans, shutting his eyes again.

"I didn't think it would be fair to you if you lost while asleep," Henry says as casually as he can, but there's a quiver to his voice, telling Alex that it was just as hard on his end to have to wake him from his wet dream.

Alex rolls onto his back, and his dick is practically _throbbing_ for some release. He moves to press his hand to the base of his cock, desperate for even the smallest friction, but Henry is two steps ahead of him and catches his wrist in his hand, pinning it back to the mattress. That move does not help Alex's case in the slightest, and an involuntary whine escapes his throat.

"No masturbating, remember?" Henry mumbles against his pillow.

"Yeah," Alex says breathlessly. He's so aroused that it hurts. "Fuck."

Henry moves closer to him then, his hand sliding against his stomach, his lips brushing his shoulder. "Unless you can't handle it anymore," he says in a low voice. The tips of his fingers slide dangerously close to the bulge in his briefs, and Alex has to do everything he can to hold back a moan. "You looked so good grinding on the bed, you just couldn't get enough... if you give in, love, I'll do exactly what I did to you in your dream, I promise."

Alex sits up suddenly, throwing Henry's arm off of him. His breathing is labored. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, baby, because I'm not gonna be the one to cave."

Henry groans. "You are going to be the death of me."

"I'll say," Alex grumbles. He's still hard, and achingly so. "I'm going to take a shower. A fucking cold one."

"No cheating," Henry reminds him.

"Wales, the fact that you think I would cheat is somehow more offensive than waking me up from a wet dream."

Another week passes. Alex is hauled down to D.C. last minute for a series of conferences, and he and Henry don't see each other for three days. Normally Alex would bitch about Henry not being able to come with him, but it's a much needed break for the two of them. It's decidedly easier to not think about Henry's body when he isn't next to him for the entirety of the day, and for a majority of his time in D.C. he forgets about their petty bet, but what he fails to take into account is how he'll react when he arrives back at the brownstone. It hits him for the first time on the car ride back to their home; that he might not be able to handle himself when he sees Henry again. Usually their reunion sex is hard and fast, no matter if it's a day apart or two weeks, and, well — he hasn't kissed Henry for just shy of a month now. So when he unlocks the front door and steps inside, he's a bit more worried than usual that his body will be what dictates his movements rather than his brain.

His suspicions are, unfortunately, correct. He walks inside to see Henry sliding his work laptop into his bag, dressed head to toe in a sharp, black suit. He stops in his tracks, his mouth suddenly very dry. Henry doesn't seem to notice him, so Alex clears his throat. "What's this?" he asks. His voice is much higher than he expects it to be.

Henry catches his eye, a smile stretching upon his lips. "Hi, darling," he greets. "Pez just landed in the states, don't you remember? We have meetings to expand the shelter to Manhattan and Queens."

"No, no, I remember," Alex says, but his own words sound faint to him, and maybe that's an effect of _suit suit suit suit_ playing a mantra in his head. When Henry straightens up, Alex catches sight of the light blue tie he's wearing and nearly groans at the sight. It's one of his favorites, from the way brings out the bright color in Henry's eyes to the way it looks wrapped around his wrists. "I just, um... I thought you would be at your meetings by now."

"I was just about to leave." Henry crosses over to him and presses a kiss to his tousled hair. But Alex should have known that Henry wasn't going to play completely innocent, and he yelps when one of his hands comes down to squeeze his ass. "And perhaps I wanted to tease you before I left."

"I fucking hate you," Alex says weakly.

Henry smiles, kissing him again on the cheek, and walks out of the door. Alex is still trying to catch up with everything that just happened. He realizes, just then, that there's a significant tent in his chinos. He curses out loud, making David jump from the unexpected noise.

"It's okay, buddy," Alex comforts him. He sits down on the couch and David happily jumps into his lap, nudging his nose with Alex's hand, clearly wanting to be pet. Alex scratches at his ears. "You see what your dad's doing to me? You didn't try to stop him?" David licks his face in response. "You’re no help."

It’s only a couple hours later, after Henry texts him that he's on his way home followed by a cheeky picture of him still in his stupidly sexy suit, that Alex realizes that Henry will not stop playing dirty until he gives in. He will continue to tease and provoke him until Alex comes crawling back, begging for Henry to touch him once again. And Alex just won't have that. No, not after almost four weeks resisting him and all his royal allure. What he needs to do is step down to Henry's level, to play just as dirty as he is. And luckily, Alex knows just the thing to make Henry crack.

He barely gives Henry a chance to say hello when he arrives back home before he's slamming him against the door to their bedroom, pressing his body completely against him. Henry gasps out in surprise, and then in arousal once he fully takes in the sight of Alex: completely naked apart from his boxers and his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His hands fly to grip at his hips, and he squeezes so hard that Alex is sure that he'll leave bruises there tomorrow.

"Alex," he moans feebly. "Christ. You don't realize what you're doing to me, you absolute _demon."_

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, baby," Alex replies lowly. They're so close that their noses slide together. He gives a quick roll of his hips, smirking to himself when he feels Henry already half-hard against his thigh. "In fact, I know _exactly_ what I'm doing. I've got a plan and everything. First I'll kiss you until you run out of breath, and then I think I'll get on my knees and suck you off. I'll take you nice and deep; I'll even let you fuck my mouth if that's what you want. But I won't let you come, not just yet. I want to make sure this night is everything you've waited for. So I'll pull off just when you're about to come, and then I'll push you on the bed and get you out of this gorgeous suit."

Henry's breathing is ragged now, their lips just barely brushing against each other's. Alex wants to kiss him so badly. "I'll fuck you with my fingers until your words are reduced to nothing but pleads of my cock in your tight ass. And then I'll finally fuck you. You'd like that, huh? I'll fuck you so hard until you come, and even then I won't stop. I'll fuck you through that until you come again, all sensitive and desperate. And all you have to do is say the word." His hands slide up his clothed chest and come up to cup his jaw. His thumbs press against the corners of Henry's mouth, slightly parted from his heavy breathing, and Alex can practically _feel_ his arousal. "Just give in, and I'll do anything you want."

Henry grabs his shoulders, and for one fleeting moment Alex thinks he's won, but then he's being shoved away, stumbling backwards from the force of Henry's push. "No," Henry says through a groan. His neck and ears are already flushed pink, his hair slightly out of place now as he runs a hand through it, and _fuck,_ he was close to caving. Alex could feel it. But Henry juts out his chin, takes another deep breath. "No, not until you do."

"Dammit, Henry!" Alex finally snaps, because he's been hard since Henry walked in the room and he's so sexually frustrated and he doesn't know how much restraint he can muster. He turns away from him, gripping at his own hair. "God, what are we even doing anymore? I just want to — no, shit, I _need_ to fuck you right now."

"Then do it," Henry's voice comes, his words fast and dripping with sex itself. In a flash, Alex realizes that he's let his guard down, and he knows Henry will use that to its full potential. Not even a second later does he feel Henry slot himself behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Alex leans into the touch, simply because he _can't_ shy away from Henry anymore. "You can use me and I'll be so good for you. Say I win, and you can do every dirty thing you promised me."

But Alex shakes his head, because still, _still,_ he has something to prove. He's lasted this long. He's not about to step down now.

Something soft and silky circles his wrists, and _fuck, when did Henry take his tie off?_ "You can tie me up, if you want," Henry breathes into his ear. The sleek material feels so good against his skin, and Alex fucking _keens,_ dropping his head back onto Henry's shoulder. "Please, Alex," Henry begs. _Begs._ He needs this just as much as Alex does. "All you have to do is say I win."

With what little resolve he has left, Alex says, "When you finally cave, baby, I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you'll be sore for days."

Henry stills, a quiet moan escaping him. They're both panting heavily, both growing hard, and both so desperate to give in, yet too stubborn to do so. The tie slips from Henry's shaking fingers, honest to God _shaking,_ and he slides his hands up Alex's arms instead. His skin feels like it's on fire wherever Henry touches him. He unconsciously pushes his ass back into Henry's crotch, feeling the hot press of his cock.

Something inside him breaks. He makes up his mind, spinning around at the same time Henry forces him to face him, and in a spinning frenzy their lips finally crash together. They both moan wantonly, tongues meeting and hands roaming, and it feels so, _so_ good, and Henry pulls him even closer and grinds their hips together in sheer desperation as Alex touches him everywhere.

"Who — who lost?" Alex gasps in between kisses, grabbing Henry's ass, his hips, his shoulders.

Henry doesn't answer, too busy taking bites at Alex's bottom lip, a wet slide of mouths. He finally breaks away for air, and Alex takes the opportunity to bite and suck at his neck. Henry groans loudly, tilting his head as far as he can to the side to give Alex as much as access as possible. "The both of us," he manages, tangling one hand in Alex's hair and pulling hard. Alex moans from where his face is buried in Henry's neck. "We haven't had sex in nearly _four bloody weeks!"_

That's good enough for Alex, so he pushes and pushes Henry towards the bed until they fall on top of it. He slots one leg in between Henry's and grinds shamelessly down on him. He's so hard he's sure he can come just from this alone, but that won't be enough for them. No, not after the frustration they've put themselves through. He needs to be inside Henry, to kiss every inch of skin on his gorgeous body. And judging by the way Henry moans beneath him, the way he bucks his hips up to get more of Alex, he yearns for the exact same thing.

They get Henry out of his suit jacket, then his dress shirt, and Alex has zero patience for buttons so he yanks it open with a few forceful tugs. Henry will complain about it tomorrow, and Alex will remind him that as the Prince of fucking Wales he can easily get a few shirt buttons replaced, but now he's just as greedy as Alex is. He throws his shirt to the floor as Alex shoves his pants down and out of the way. He freezes, staring at the wet spot that's already soaked through Henry's briefs. It isn't something he hasn't seen before, but after four weeks of not being able to touch Henry, it's the hottest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. He cups him through his underwear, and Henry jerks and holds back a moan.

"Don't you dare hold back those noises," Alex tells him, pressing wet kisses to his neck, his collarbone, his chest. "I want you to be as loud as you can, because I know you want to. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," Henry babbles.

Alex pulls back to take his glasses off, but Henry immediately clamps a hand around his wrist, his eyes dark with want. "Keep them on," he says. There's already a distinct shake to his voice. "Please."

Alex nods. He leans in to kiss him again. Anything for him, yeah. Anything.

He kisses a trail down his stomach, teasing licks around his nipples, his navel, only stopping for a brief moment when he reaches the waistband of his briefs. Henry's hands tighten in his hair, a telltale sign of _please, keep going._ Alex kisses the dip of his waist before mouthing over the clothed bulge, making Henry gasp. Alex's hands grip at his thighs, a breathy moan escaping him as he continues to lick and kiss at Henry's steadily growing erection. He can feel Henry shaking, can hear his whimpers, his soft cries of _"Feels so good, love,"_ and Alex can't take it anymore. He yanks down the now-wet briefs, tossing them to the side before Henry fully catches up to him and takes him into his mouth, not stopping until the tip of Henry's cock hits the back of his throat. His eyes water, he's been too greedy, but he doesn't fucking care. He pulls back just to drop right back down again, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. Henry's groans are practically music to his ears, and he relishes in the sharp tugs of his hair, the bitter taste of pre-come on the back of his tongue. He pulls all the way off, much to Henry's disapproval. He whines, attempting to guide Alex back down onto his cock, but Alex just shakes his head and presses his lips to his crown, his tongue greedily lapping at the slit. "Alex, darling," he manages, "I’m not going to last if you keep this up."

"I know, I know, just let me," Alex says. He leaves sloppy kisses on the underside of his cock, pushing Henry’s knees to his chest, further exposing himself. He moves his mouth down to his balls, leaving teasing licks that has Henry shaking, kisses down his perineum. When he finally presses his tongue against hole, Henry lets out a sob.

"You can’t — you can’t do all of this without being properly naked," he chokes out, and Alex pulls back with a laugh.

"Fine, your royal horniness." Alex shucks his boxers off. His cock stands proudly against his stomach, already leaking and smearing the hair of his happy trail. Henry sits up, eyeing it with a dark look. He pulls Alex closer to connect their lips as he wraps his hand around Alex’s aching dick. Alex moans into the kiss, thrusting into Henry’s fist, desperate for some release. Henry flips them over so he’s on top. Their limbs knock together, but they manage to fit together. They always do.

Henry pushes Alex up the bed, his tongue tracing the shell of his ear. "I want to ride you," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly.

Alex’s eyes roll back into his head. "Oh, _fuck yes,_ baby. Get the lube."

He settles back on the headboard, replacing Henry’s hand on his cock with his own while Henry rolls off the bed to their dresser (they stored the lube there the first week as another way to resist temptation). He retrieves it after a few moments of searching, not wasting any time and pouring some on his fingers before he even gets back on the bed. He throws the bottle onto the sheets and climbs on top of Alex, his knees bracketing his thighs. Their mouths immediately connect, and Alex wraps his arms around Henry’s waist and pulls him closer. Their cocks slide together, just skin on skin, and they both groan into each other’s mouths. Henry snakes a hand in between their stomachs and grabs Alex’s dick, hastily spreading the lube he poured on his palm. Alex, taking the hint, blindly grabs the discarded bottle and pours some on his own fingers. He presses two fingers against his hole, but doesn’t push in.

"I don’t need it," Henry says, groaning when Alex bites down on his jaw.

"Hen, we haven’t fucked for a month. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to take my cock without being stretched first."

Henry huffs. "Fine, fine, but quickly." He rolls his hips. "Want you inside of me."

"I know, I know. Just hold on, you’re doing so well," Alex praises. He pushes one finger into him, and _God,_ he's so tight. Henry moans wantonly, dropping his head onto Alex's shoulder. Alex can feel his kisses against the column of his throat and he tilts his head to the side, giving Henry more room to mark his neck. He crooks his finger and Henry shudders. Fuck, it's been too long.

"Another," Henry demands, his voice slightly muffled from where he's pressed against Alex's throat.

"Baby —"

 _"Alex._ I am fine. I just need more, please." He emphasizes this point by pushing back on his finger, and Alex can never say no to him. Not like this.

"Yeah, of course," Alex says, softly kissing his temple. He slides another finger next to the first and wastes no time eagerly thrusting in and out of Henry. The other boy bites down on the spot behind his ear in an attempt to muffle his moans, his hips moving fervently in time with Alex's thrusts. Alex jabs his fingers into his prostate and Henry’s entire body convulses. His cock brushes against his hand, and Henry is so fucking hard, and Alex can’t help but kiss him.

"I’m ready now. I’m _ready,"_ Henry says again, this time with more force. Alex pulls his fingers away, moving to stroke Henry’s cock as he adjusts himself on Alex’s lap. Their mouths are relentless, neither one of them wanting to be the one to pull away first, but it’s been _four goddamn weeks_ and Alex doesn’t care if his lips never leave Henry’s again.

Henry takes his cock in his hand and sits back until the cockhead presses against his hastily stretched hole. He presses down — the resistance is there, and Alex could have stretched him better, but it’s desire that’s driving them more than anything now.

And then Henry is finally sinking down, going faster than he probably should, not stopping until Alex is buried all the way in him. They gasp into each other’s mouths. Henry is so fucking tight that Alex can't think; it's all he can focus on as he strokes Henry almost lazily, hot pressure squeezing all around him. It takes all the willpower in the world to resist thrusting up into the inviting heat as Henry adjusts to his size.

"I'm not gonna last for much long," he manages.

"Nor will I," Henry breathes out. He rolls his hips. "Fuck."

Eventually Henry gives a shuddering gasp and slowly starts moving. Alex clutches his hip with one hand, the other moving faster up and down his cock. Whimpers and groans escape deep from Henry's chest as he arches into the touch. He steadies himself, one hand on Alex's shoulder and one hand gripping the headboard, and works his hips harder. Their lips crash together again, and by now Henry is practically bouncing on his dick as he moans unashamedly.

It's moments like these where Alex still can't believe that he is the only one who gets to see Henry like this. Where his heart skips a beat, and butterflies erupt in his stomach, and he falls in love all over again.

He's moaning freely at this point as well, slamming his hips up to meet Henry as their movements get sloppier. His cock is hitting his prostate with every thrust, and it feels so damn good, and not a second later Henry is babbling, "Feels so good sweetheart, not going to last, oh shit, _shit —"_ and then he tips over the edge. Hot streaks of come hit their stomachs, their chests, and Henry continues fucking himself on Alex's cock through it all. He's oversensitive, he has to be, but the dark look in Henry's blown-out pupils tells Alex that he doesn't care one bit. Alex groans. He drops his head on Henry's shoulder, thrusting frantically on his own accord, chasing his own orgasm. He feels Henry start to relax on top of him, and no, that won't do, not when Alex is seconds away from coming himself.

"Gonna try to get one more out of you," Alex murmurs in his ear.

Henry nods, licks his lips, and his voice sounds broken when he speaks again. "Christ, please."

Alex roughly grabs both his hips and rolls them over without slipping out. Henry is on his back now, his legs spread wide with his feet flat on the mattress, lying there and just — he's just taking it, letting Alex abuse his hole as if that's the only reason he has for living, and Alex nearly blacks out from how turned on he is. Their hips slam together when Henry moves to take his cock deeper. Sweat rolls down his back, down his face, making his glasses slide down to the tip of his nose. He pauses deep inside of Henry to whip off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. Henry groans; in protest or in frustration, Alex isn't sure. Quite possibly a bit of both. A possessive hand shoots out to grab his ass, the other cupping the back of his neck, trying to pull him as close to his body as possible. "Stop teasing, you prick," he whispers feebly. Their mouths meet again, wet and desperate.

"I know, baby, I'm sorry." He picks up the harsh pace of his thrusts, lifting Henry's hips off the mattress so he can wrap his legs around his waist. His cock slides deeper into him at this angle, and Alex is at the brink of his orgasm, has been since he first pushed into Henry. He takes Henry's cock into his hand again, moaning when he feels that he's still hard. Henry breathes into his mouth, canting his hips up with every hard thrust, and he says, "Alex, Alex, I can't, you're so —"

So what, Alex will never find out, because Henry gasps against his lips and comes to his second climax of the night. He comes less than the first time, but it's just as intense, if not more. Alex pulls back to take in Henry — his flushed chest, his open mouth, his flexed thighs, his toned stomach. He clenches around Alex's cock, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, and that's when Alex loses it. He pushes into him violently and comes. The orgasm rips through his veins, forcing his hips to keep thrusting as he empties himself, and he _keeps coming._ Through his dizzying haze of orgasmic bliss he can feel Henry kissing him, grounding him, keeping him in the moment. His hips give another sharp thrust, and then he collapses on top of him. His entire body feels spent. It's probably the hardest he's ever come before.

They're still kissing each other, or at least trying to — they're both so exhausted that all they can do is breathe into each other's mouths, their lips meeting every so often. His hands rub soothing circles into his hips; Henry's massaging at the nape of his neck. Finally Alex gives a weak laugh. "Jesus Christ," he mumbles.

"I know," Henry replies, twisting his hand into Alex's hair.

"Let's never do something like that again," Alex says. He nudges Henry's nose with his, sliding their mouths together in another slow, deep kiss before he pulls out. Henry moans when the head of his cock slips out of his ass but doesn't wince; instead he attempts to wipe away some of the mess on his stomach but only succeeds in making it messier.

"Let me." Alex rolls off the bed and tries to stand up, but his legs are shaking so intensely that it's hard to even do that. Henry notices and slides his hand up and down Alex's arm, sleepily shaking his head.

"Just use those emergency tissues in the drawer," he tells him. "You're exhausted, love, and so am I. We'll take care of each other in the morning, okay?"

"Okay." Alex is too tired to argue with him. He rustles through their nightstand drawer and pulls out a wad of tissues, hastily wiping them down Henry's chest, stomach, and cock. He can't help but swipe his tongue along the slit, the taste of his come flooding his senses. Henry's hand tightens in his hair, and Alex takes the hint. "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He crashes down on his side next to Henry, their legs immediately tangling together. Henry pulls him as close as he can to his body, kissing him slow and soft. After nearly a month of Alex not being able to kiss him, it feels better than he could ever imagine. He briefly thinks to their days of chasing each other across countries to be able to put their mouths on each other, the immediate relief Alex felt the moment Henry's lips pressed onto his. It's what he feels right now, only about ten times more amplified. He almost starts laughing. God, never again.

Henry pulls back, chuckling weakly. "That was..." he starts, a slight rasp already apparent in his voice.

"Stupid," Alex finishes for him. He pulls Henry's mouth to his again, and God, he cannot stop kissing him. "That was so fucking stupid, Hen, why did we think this was a good idea? I'm gonna have to fuck you every day to make up for this, I swear to God."

"Hmm, I'm not opposed to that," Henry responds, licking into his mouth.

Their libido certainly hasn't worn off, and their stray kisses turn into making out, which turns into messy, fast-paced handjobs. They pass out immediately after; sprawled all over each other and not even bothering to slide under the covers. A damn good batch of reunion sex, if you ask Alex.

A week later, Alex stumbles onto another article, this one titled _This Viral Photo of HRH Prince Henry of Wales Helping FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Out of a Car Like the Gentleman He Is has Us All Wishing We Weren't Single,_ and Alex smirks and immediately forwards it to Henry. _Doting on me, much?_ He writes under the link, thinking that he at least gained one small victory from this whole affair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If anybody is interested, I'm planning on posting a five to ten chapter fic sometime around the end of November, so be on the lookout for that. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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